Napoleon's Demise
by Krizzie
Summary: The torture of Napoleon, the man who dared injure Izawa. COMPLETE! XD
1. Confrontation

**Napoleon's Demise**

**By: **Krizzie

**Summary: **The torture of Napoleon, the man who dared injure Izawa.

**Disclaimer: **CT does not and will never belong to me, unfortunately.

**Izawa: **This is insane, just so you know.

**Krizzie: **Yep, but people have to pay for hurting you.

**Izawa: **I don't know if I should be flattered or horrified at the measures you're taking.

**Matsuyama: **I think you should settle for both.

**Izawa: **I'm leaving.

**Krizzie: **Aww… But Mamoru-kun!

**Chapter One: **Confrontation

It was the night before Christmas.

Bells rang as every store began to open for the day. People walking the streets for some last minute Christmas shopping and children pestering every parent for their Christmas toys created excited mumbles that filled the cold town square.

Yuki grinned as the snowflakes danced around her. It was cold and she was glad.

But there was something amiss, Yuki pondered, as always in a beautiful day. Because in the corner of eye she caught a movement.

One look confirmed who it was.

With a disgruntled sigh, Yuki decided to abandon her peaceful walk and sauntered over to where her friend was, looking quite different from her usually bored demeanor. She tightened her cloak around her before pausing right beside the black haired girl.

"It's Christmas Eve. What the hell could make you act this crazy on Christmas Eve?" she snapped at the dreadfully camouflaged girl lurking the streets.

"Candy Canes…" the young girl quickly replied in her hoarse voice, her hand twitching from the cold. She grinned maniacally before arranging her outdated goggles. "And insomnia."

Yuki crossed her arms as she watched the sleep-deprived girl cross one lawn after another. "And who, may I ask, is the subject of your attention this time?"

Said girl dived in a pile of leaves, not replying and Yuki was forced to follow since it was Christmas Eve, a time of sharing. And Yuki was sharing her precious crazy-free time, even if she felt she would regret it.

The blonde looked at the twitching hands and sighed. Logic seemed to be really the last thing to be expected from her friend when she was in one of her "missions". She was covered head to toe in outrageous clothing but the thought of wrapping her hands didn't even occur to her. "You know, you could've at least worn gloves. Your fingers are starting to turn blue." Yuki rummaged through her bag and grabbed a pair, tossing it in front of her friend's face.

Krizzie took the purple gloves away from her face with a scowl. "These are too fancy for me, stranger." And with that, she threw them back and resumed her pace.

Yuki growled before she took her used black gloves from her pocket and held the girl in place by pulling at her long, ruffled hair. "Here, I use this when I shovel my driveway. Accept or you're hair gets tied."

Krizzie scowled at her but took them nonetheless, just for the sake of getting her hair free from the offending grip. "Next time, I'll cut my hair." she growled before slipping on the gloves.

Yuki smirked. "I'll find another way." Krizzie growled again before crawling around a huge tree.

Yuki was about to follow (again) when Krizzie faced her with a determined frown in her face. "Halt, stranger." she muttered in a low voice. "This is between me and that god-forsaken player."

Yuki blinked, before she slapped her face, an action which in her friend's opinion was supposed to rattle her brains for its stupidity for not remembering earlier.

"Shit… today's Napoleon's birthday."

**Krizzie: **I'll end it there because I'm having some a wee bit trouble. Does anyone know how Napoleon talks like? I only saw him in one episode and that was some time ago and my memory is VERY bad so I can't imagine at the moment how the stupid French speaks. Anyone willing to help??? PLEASE OH PLEASE OH PLEASE!!!

**Izawa: **I think this getting way out of hand.

**Krizzie: **I know Mamoru-kun! How am I supposed to torture Napoleon if I have no idea what his accent sounds like??? What the hell is wrong with me???

**Izawa: **(scowls) That's not what I meant!!!

**Krizzie: **Oh yeah! I managed to draw a chibi-Krizzie in Photoshop. The link's in my profile! Thanks for reading! Now, press that lovely purple button and review!!!

**Izawa: **Goddamn it.


	2. Birthday Song

**Napoleon's Demise**

**By: **Krizzie

**Summary: **The torture of Napoleon, the man who dared injure Izawa.

**Disclaimer: **CT does not and will never belong to me

**Krizzie: **Yes, I changed the story's title. –large grin- I can't come up with five steps. This is because I've not updated this in what… a year? Haha!

**Izawa: **You've got issues. Seriously.

**Krizzie: **Bleh. Who cares? And just to clarify… they're in France, okay? With the whole Japan team.

**Izawa: **This is stupid.

**Krizzie: **Find some originality Ma-chan. That line is getting way too old.

**Izawa: **Ugh…

**Chapter Two: **Birthday Song

Yuki beat herself up too long, apparently, because right after she removed the hand that slapped her forehead, she was staring at… well, she was _not _staring at Krizzie but at deep imprints on dirty snow.

"Krizzie…?" she called out, whipping around to find that her companion had managed to hoist herself up the brick wall fence and was attempting to lift her right leg to hook up with the ledge. It took five seconds for Yuki's brain to function.

And then she paled.

"Krizzie! Damn it, Krizzie, do you freakin' realize what you're freakin' doing???" She ran over, looking over her shoulders nervously while just managing not to trip over a broken bottle of vodka which, by the way, she had no idea how ended up being there. This proved to be a difficult task since her nose kept on being caught at the shawl she had thrown around her neck that morning.

"…I freakin' realize what I'm freakin' doing." Krizzie was saying by the time she managed to put her mind back to focus. By now she had managed to straddle the wall and was proceeding to remove the black gloves on her hands. Yuki was too appalled to protest. "Now that I think about it… I might use your fancy… handwear, stranger. Give 'em." She stretched her bare hands out.

Still pale out of comparison, Yuki reached on her toes and placed them on her hands. "W-What—exactly— do you plan on doing?" she managed to say as she clumsily regained her footing.

"Nothing drastic." Krizzie mused, slipping on the purple gloves and not attempting to hide the distaste on her face. Yuki seemed to regain color at this point. "Just ruffle his feathers a bit."

Yuki was left to watch as she pushed herself off the wall, out of her sight, and into Napoleon Bonaparte's house.

--

Napoleon was lounging at the foyer, tea cup between him and an empty chair, muttering things she can't decipher under his breath. But there was something… off, she noticed. Not the colors… not his suit —which left her wondering whether Armani really compulsory at tea parties, just for the note— but something to do with perspective. Simply put…

He was upside-down.

"Blech." Krizzie flattened her elbow on the ground, wincing as she felt the bruises press and throb on her hand. "This is not good." She flattened herself on the ground again, mindful of the crumple of leaves behind her, and gently twisted her wrist, making a face when pale jolted through her arm. "Shit."

She went through all her possibly options. She could grin and bear it, and appear like a total fluke limping towards a billion dollar football player, or she could lay down there like… like… like… ugh… she was out of adjectives.

"Grin and bear it, it is." she muttered with a forced smile on her face as she made to pull herself off the ground. As soon as she did, she realized that jumping off a wall with abandon really was a bad idea, and was left staring at a huge gash the ran below her knee diagonally down an inch above her ankle.

"Double shit."

--

Someone tell her why they were spending Christmas on France again?

Oh right… to _promote _relations. Hah! Fat chance…

"Something tells me this ain't gonna be helping anything." Yuki muttered under her breath, face half buried in the offending shawl, and then she shoved her hands into her pockets and went over to the front door.

As soon as she did, she realized her "friend" has a reason for… _climbing_ and entering.

The guard was a bitch.

"I _told _you, for eight times to be exact—" she directed a pointed finger at him for emphasis. "My name is Tamane Yuki, manager and a close acquaintance of _the _Japan Team. Roommate of Nakazawa Sanae. Soon-to-be girlfriend of Taro Misaki." She searched for more titles, and when she can't come up with any, she threw her arms up in the air and yelled, "Call Napoleon! He'll agree!"

The guard laughed mockingly. Ooh… _the nerve_…"And leave you alone here? No siree! Who knows what you'll do the minute I'm gone!"

Yuki's hands clasped around the iron bars. The she glared at him with the most venomous glare she could produce without looking ugly. "Then why don't you use that radio transmitting… thingy and call for _back-up_, mister?" she drawled mockingly.

The guard blushed. "I'm out of batteries."

"Argh!!!"

--

"Before you say anything, let me explain."

Napoleon promptly closed his mouth and stared at her blankly. She felt so stupid right about now. She was walking… limping, for Pete's sake, hair disheveled beyond imagination and with one shoe all but destroyed.

"You see… this wasn't exactly how I—" she let her hands dance in front of her face and he pretended not to notice the stumble in her stand. "—_visualize_ things to… happen." She let her hands drop to her sides, finishing the dramatic explanation lamely. "We need to talk."

Napoleon blinked, and then he gestured to the empty chair in front of him. Then he said, cheekily as it may, "I was waiting for you."

--

Yuki tapped her fingers on her knee, watching clouds form from her breath and then dissolve in the air. "What's taking that punkass so long?" she muttered under her breath, closing her arms around her as the cold become too harsh to bear. The wind was picking up, and the jacket she wore around her didn't do as much help as they usually did.

She snapped her eyes up in gratitude as she heard the sound of boots approaching. "What did he say?" she asked excitedly, rather pleased to see his lips a little blue as well.

The guard blushed. "Napoleon-sama… asked not to be disturbed."

Her brows knitted together. "Is he with a girl? A black-haired, weird-looking girl?"

"Yes…" He looked uncertain. "Wait…how'd you know that?"

She snorted. "Unlike some people, I'm not completely stupid."

--

In the span of five minutes, she had him hooked on her tale.

"…And there's three percent, THREE!!! Of them giving you a surprise birthday party… and that just sucks because since your birthday falls on the birthday of the possibly most famous guy on earth, there's not much focus put on YOUR celebration, which if I may say again, sucks since it's supposed to be YOUR day. Not that it's all bad, I mean you DO get two cakes and stuff, but people are natural cheapskates and they give you one gift for both occasions as much as they can and now that I'm—we're— old enough… and rich enough on your part, to buy gifts of our own, our parents don't give at that much financial support and gave up on the gifts altogether!!! Do you get what I'm saying?"

Napoleon, who had been nodding throughout the whole epic, finally snapped to focus and managed to say a small, "Yes... yez of courze…" he grinned.

"You didn't listen to anything I said, did you?" she pointed accusingly.

"NO!" he disagreed quickly, winding the bandage distractedly around her calf. "I've been listening… but honestly… it's not bothering me that much."

She rolled her eyes. "But gifts… generosity, is the spirit of the season!" she insisted.

He chuckled mildly. "Tell you what," he said, and she was finding it odd that he received her so warmly and now he was even compromising. "Why don't you come to _my _surprise birthday party, which wasn't that much of a surprise, really, and I'll see if I can't persuade some people to spread," he paused, giving her a smile that held meaning, "their _generosity_."

She grinned back. "Would there be a lot of people? Friends?"

He nodded. "Acquaintances… important people… the usual."

The gleam went back to her eyes. "Count me in!" she chirped. "Merry Christmas… and happy birthday."

"Right back at you."

"Don't worry." she assured him as she stood up, testing her bad leg and smiling as she realized the pain had dulled. "I'll prepare a special gift for you."

He smiled, brushing blonde bangs away from his face. "I'll be prepared."

They shook hands.

"Good. See you there." And then she left. Through the wall of course. She's always wanted to do dramatic exits.

--

The next morning, Yuki found herself sitting in one of the fanciest Christmas/birthday party she's ever attended to. There were Christmas lights on the wall, party hats merged and collided with equally eye-attacking Santa hats and people were wearing gowns.

"Where are we?" she asked the woman who was busy scribbling on a piece of tissue paper.

"Napoleon's surprise party." Krizzie replied distractedly. "He invited me and I want you to see the show," she nudged her head to the next table. "I'd have a feeling they'd be here too."

Yuki glanced behind her as another round of raucous laughter emerged from the next table. "Well, our little athletes seem to be doing fine, how about you? What are you doing?"

Krizzie snatched the paper before she had a chance to peer at it. "You'll see." she grinned, then resumed scribbling.

Before Yuki had the chance to protest, the room had gone eerily quiet, and everyone with their fancy suits and nightgowns were staring at the door that had a knob turning.

"He's here…" one girl whispered breathily.

And then…

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY NAPOLEON!!!"

"Oh! And Merry Christmas too!"

--

After the greetings and casual festivities dies down, Napoleon invited Krizzie up the makeshift stage. She accepted the invitation with casual grace… and a little clumsy steps but they were taken with pride nonetheless, before she cleared her throat and pushed the microphone her way.

"For… um… a _dear—"_ she smiled sarcastically at Napoleon. "—friend, I've prepared a song!" She cleared her throat again, and Yuki noticed the piece of tissue paper that she was flattening with her hands. "Umm… please… excuse my poor voice." More throat clearing, and then she started.

(If you watch South Park… that episode where Wendy attends the auditions to become a member of the boys' band… that tune.)

Deep breath.

"_Oh look my lovely posers, its early Christmas Eve! But it's not only Jesus, who's receiving gold and myrrh! _

_This guy here is Napoleon; he's got such a weird voice! But don't let him deceive you, he's foreign but he's hoarse! _

_And with that great big flaw, comes two more things to see, you see he caused great pain, to Mamoru, me and ME!!!_

_There was a football game, I was cheering by the side, when suddenly he's kicking, he's kicking at my lad! _

_Nobody hurts Mamoru! Nobody here but me! So don't you dare insult him… or kick him in the shin!_

_I don't care if you're blonde, or if you're French and sweet! Just get the hell away, away from him and me!_

_I'm not really the bad guy, just clarifying here, but if you want to glare, feel free to glare and leave. _

_This is my birthday too, and I know that just sucks, but don't tell me to bear it 'cause to bear it I will not!_

_It's Christmas Eve today, tomorrow's our birthday, so I just want to yell, so I would be okay._

_This song is really long, I'm getting pretty tired, but I can't stop because, I don't have the best rhyme._

_All that I am saying is, Napoleon is a prick, so don't you dare befriend him, I'll say it's a trick!_

_Why don't you look at that, this guy here is a brat! And if you ask his name, I'll tell you BonaPRAT!_

_Now I will end this song, this song I mean to sing, to sing in front of people to get revenge for thee!" _

And BOW.

--

**Krizzie: **The last part was impulse. –Grin—

**Izawa: **I'm going to go tell Napoleon I'm sorry. You better go too.

**Krizzie: **Nanananananana! I'm not listening…!!!


End file.
